


well, that's one way to bond with your significant other

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Post-Pacifist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans stays at Toriel's home (post-pacifist) for the first time. It could go better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	well, that's one way to bond with your significant other

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff. Semi-indulgent fluff. Also a partial character study, because I'd like to be better at writing this ship. 
> 
> You're welcome.

When it happened, there were no theatrics. No bolting upright, no tears; it hadn't gotten even close to the worst one Sans had ever experienced, but he had wrenched himself awake anyway.

The room he laid in was dark and unfamiliar, which only served to scare him more. It took him several minutes to realize where he was, but once he did, he dragged a hand over his face.

He knew this had been a bad idea, really, but he'd gone through with it anyway, like an idiot. He made an effort to quiet his ragged breathing when he looked over at Toriel, who was sleeping beside him. Part of him wished that he had given her a warning about something like this happening, but when he really thought about it, he was glad he hadn't. She didn't need to be a part of this mess. He sighed, and took careful measures to make sure that his getting out of bed wouldn't wake her up.

The small kitchen in her home was also dark, but there was just enough light from digital clocks and small bulbs on appliances for him to navigate through it. He squinted at the little green numbers on the microwave: 4:37. He reached for a glass on the drying rack, but once he had it in his hand, he realized he was trembling and it dropped.

The glass shattered when it hit the floor.

He felt his bad eye flare up and he started to swear a little--this was why he preferred plastic water bottles. It was only agitated further when the lights to the living room and kitchen suddenly flickered to life.

For a moment, it really did feel like he was back in the Final Hallway, facing down a psychopath.

The next, he was in the kitchen, facing a worried Toriel on the opposite side of a broken cup.

"Are you alright?" she asked, "I rolled over and you were not there, and then I heard something break-"

Sans leaned against the counter behind him and gripped it tight, trying to regain his lost composure.

"just a glass," he croaked, "it's fine."

"Oh my God, your eye, what happened?"

"i'm pretty sure i just told you. a glass broke."

"Sans," She spoke to him in a soothing voice, a far cry from how scared she had sounded just a few sentences ago, "Is this why you were hesitant to come here tonight?"

The blue and yellow flare in his eye died, but instead of leaving his usual flickers behind, his eyes went completely dark. He switched from leaning on the back counter to the island near him.

Toriel walked around the broken glass and the island, helping him over to the couch in the living room. He sat there, staring blankly ahead while she swept up his mess. When she finished, she moved to the couch he was sitting on, and took his hand.

"What happened?" she asked.

Sans leaned into the back of the couch, the flickers starting to return to his eyes.

"it's hard to say."

"I am here to listen."

Sans hesitated. "i...i don't want to talk about it. i shouldn't have come, plain and simple."

Toriel examined him with a suddenly scrutinizing eye. She looked like the Queen she was, mulling over something complicated like battle strategy or city planning.

"After the War," she began, slightly stern, "Asgore and I were not the same as we used to be."

Sans looked confused, but didn't say anything.

"Neither of us could sleep for months afterward, knowing that we had let down our kingdom and risked so many lives for something so ultimately pointless. It was one of the most difficult things I have ever gone through. The same thing happened after I lost my children."

Toriel's voice went soft again. "I do not know what you could have gone through, but I do know that I think I can help. If you are still not comfortable, that is fine. But know that I am here."

"i...uh...okay."

"Okay what?"

"i had a nightmare."

Toriel relaxed from her Queen mode and nodded, leaning forward a little.

"i...have...nightmares about things that happened when we were still underground. sometimes it's running, or arguing, or fighting, and sometimes...it can be a lot worse than any of that."

"Like what?"

Sans held his breath for a few seconds. "torture. murder. typically i see it happening to you or papyrus, but it can be anyone, really." His free hand started tracing a jagged diagonal shape across his ribs. "sometimes it's me."

She watched him repeat the motion over and over, like he was trying to convince himself something wasn't there. "Is that what happened tonight?"

He shook his head, and stopped the movements. "i was fighting someone."

She took a deep breath, and he squeezed her paw.

"Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

"i was trying to get some water before-"

"No worries," she said as she got up. She carefully took a mug from the high cupboard and filled it with cool water. She brought it back to him, and sat again. Even as he took the mug from her, his eyes remained transfixed on the kitchen. The sound of her giggling was what pulled his vision away.

"I have always wondered how you are able to drink when there's nothing inside you."

He surprisingly started to laugh in response. "i couldn't tell you. must be magic."

"I suppose."

They both settled down, and Sans finished the drink. He set the mug on the coffee table in front of him and stood.

"so, uh, sorry about all this, i'll just...grab my things and go now."

"You do not have to do it for me, Sans."

He paused, gripping his nearby coat.

"I want to help you through this. Is that alright?"

He started trembling again, and pulled the puffy article up into his arms.

"okay."

"How often do they happen?"

"pretty often," he mumbled.

"Are they always this bad?"

He shook his head, a surprisingly anxious little motion. "depends. i've had worse."

"You must have been through a great deal," Toriel said, standing up. She started walking back to the bedroom, and after a brief fit of nervousness, Sans followed.

"Does Papyrus know?" she asked.

"ah--sometimes. it's...complicated. can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Good idea. Frisk will be back in the afternoon, so we can discuss it later in the morning."

The two of them both clambered back into her bed, and made themselves comfortable against each other.

"if i wake up again-" he started to say.

"Do not hesitate to wake me up too. I will be right here for you."

"m'sorry," he mumbled.

"Do not. Okay?"

"okay."

They slept on and off through the early morning haze.


End file.
